


He's Worth Waiting For

by Marie_Phantom



Series: Tumbleweed (Blowing In The Wind) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brainwashing, Bucky Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, Miscarriage, Multi, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Touch-Starved, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2057991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Phantom/pseuds/Marie_Phantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's bullet wound to the stomach was more serious than previously thought, and Thor brings in the big guns to help heal him.</p><p>In which Loki and the Winter Soldier have a discussion about brainwashing, broken promises, and waiting for someone to see who they really are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Worth Waiting For

**Author's Note:**

> I have a story, in my head. This is not it, but the idea took hold and would not let go.
> 
> As I know from personal experience, parents that keep secrets about their children from their children are doing something very wrong. I love my parents, but have no love for Odin.
> 
> WARNING: Discussions of torture, brainwashing, rape and miscarriage. Loki is intersex, not for plot reasons, because I find it fits with my metal picture of him having children. Also, I am not a doctor, so my medical knowledge is a bit spotty, so no flames for any mistakes.

Thor, despite the image he presented to the world, was not stupid.

When he was younger, just a child, he had looked at his group of friends, and saw how each of them would fit into the dynamic. Sif would be the tough tomboy, Fandral would be the flirt, Volstagg would be the funny one, and Hogun brought his grimness to add an extra layer. Thor, of course, was their leader.

But Loki was the odd one out, and so, Thor decided that he would be the clever one, the one that would take them out of their scrapes, the one that would sooth hurts and charm their enemies with nothing but his silver tongue. And yet, Thor hadn't anticipated how Asgard would turn against him, how their would call him  _erg_ _i_ and woman. Thor had spent hours outside his brothers door, listening to sobs muffled against clenched fists. Sometimes, he would hear clothing whisper to the floor, and he could see in his minds eye, Loki standing in front of his full length mirror, staring at his body and hating it at the same time. Thor remembered bathing together, and noting, in a dim corner of his mind, that his brother was not built like other boys, how he was blessed (in Thor's mind) with both genatalia. Thor saw nothing wrong in his brother, had seen nothing wrong even when his brother had tried to kill him. He knew his brother better that Loki knew himself.

Which is why he would be damned if he let himself believe that Odin had always had green eyes.

Thor had received the report about Steve when he was settling himself in New York (Jane had evaluated her life, and politely told Thor "Thanks, but no thanks." She still worked for Stark Industries, and she was nice, so when they saw each other in the corridors or on the roof, they would sit and talk about the stars). He was horrified when he read it, and had hurried over to D.C as quick as he could without his hammer. He was trying to blend in.

"I don't know what's happening to him." Sam Wilson was a pleasant man, and obviously a close friend, for Thor could see the pain pinched in the corner of his eyes. Thor  was sitting next to him, his hand holding a cup of truly awful coffee. "They got the slugs out, and stitched him up, and they say he should have been awake by now. But.." He trailed off, and looked over his shoulder in the room Steve was in.

Thor, with Wilson's permission, entered the room and went to stand over his colleague. Despite having virtually no medical training, even he could see that Steve was in a bad way. He was pale, and his hair was plastered to his head with sweat. His lips were blue, and he gasped for each breath, his chest heaving with the effort. One hand was resting on his stomach, and the other was clenched by his side, balled up against the bed sheet.

"That's the bad one." Sam said softly, having followed Thor into the room. Thor didn't turn his head, but nodded. "They reckon the river water is what is making it infected."

"I thought the serum that runs in his veins would have fought it off."

Sam smiled grimly. "So did I, but every time we think that he might get better, he gets another infection and slips back. They've," Sam swallowed, "they've had to put him into an induced coma twice now."

Thor reached out a gentle hand and took the one that lay across Steve's stomach, cradling it gently in his own massive paws. He rubbed his thumb across the knuckles and sighed.

"What is your assessment of what is happening to him?" He asked Sam. Sam rubbed his head and sighed.

"I don't know, man. I mean, it's as if he doesn't want to get better. I've done everything I can think of to try and get him out of it, but nothing."

Thor nodded and released Steve's hand. He picked up a small brown book that was on the bedside table and flicked through, coming to a list. He frowned at the content. Wordlessly, he held it open to Sam, who took it and then gave a small laugh.

"That's a list of things he needed to catch up on. You know, stuff he missed whilst he was frozen."

Thor smiled. "There are many things on that list."

"Well, it's not like he had much keeping him busy. Especially now that S.H.I.E.L.D'S gone."

"I heard that Stark was funding our group now." Thor said. He kept his ear to the ground when it came to what was happening with the Avengers.

"Oh, I'm included now?" Sam asked, looking slightly amazed. Thor grinned.

"From what I hear, you helped save the world. It would be churlish of us to refuse you entry to our group. Besides, Stark has been busy making you a new set of wings." 

Thor looked at Sam's face, and equated it to someone receiving a present on their birthday. Sam looked euphoric. Sadly, however, the moment was broken when Steve groaned softly under his breath and moved in the bed, the hand on his belly pressing hard into the flesh, as if that could keep the pain contained. His breath rattled in his chest, and Sam looked sick with worry. Thor frowned.

"If I may?" he asked, bending over Steve. Sam nodded, and he extended his arms, pushing Steve's hand gently away from his belly and cupping his own hands over the wound. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Thor knew only a little magic. Being the son of Frigga and Odin had many advantages (he had inherited his mother's beauty, and his fathers bellowing voice) but his magical education had been sharply curtailed when he was a boy. While Loki was being called a woman in man's clothing, being scorned for pursuing his natural talent, Odin had sought to hide Thor's own magical gifts, to save him embarrassment in later years. As a result, Thor knew only detecting spells, and whilst they were of great help when lost of playing hide-and-seek, they were more or less useless when it came to magic. It was Loki, in a secret moment, who had showed him how to use his spells to detect illness in the body, to see something wrong in flesh and intestines.

So Thor called upon his only magics, and pushed them through his hands, closing his eyes so the picture his magic should could be seen in his eyelids.

He saw a great wound, showing green and sickly yellow, deep in the captains belly. The would pulsed with each weak heartbeat, seeming to speed it's toxin deep into the bones. Faintly, he could feel the tingle of magic in the Captains blood, and he was happy, for now he knew that there was one good thing to come from the Tesseract. Suddenly, Steve heaved, and vomited over the side of the bed into a bucket, but the wound did not lessen. Instead, a single strand pulsed upwards, and Thor followed it, up the body, where it wrapped around the spine and brain, and Thor pulled his hands away sharply, breathing deep.

"What did you see?" Sam asked, frantic. He was wiping Steve's mouth, but Steve had not woken up.

"The wound has not healed." Thor said, gravely.

"What do you mean? The wound is closed." 

Thor shook his head. "It is not a wound of physical means, but of mental ones. That wound is killing him, because Steve will allow it."

Sam looked stunned, and slightly nauseated. "So he's deliberately not allowing himself to get better. Why?"

"I don't know. All I know is that there is a reason he doesn't want to get better." Thor pursed his lips in thought, and, making up his mind, he shook his head. Sam followed the movement, and narrowed his eyes.

"What? What is it?"

"I know of only one person who would be able to help Steve."

"Then why don't you get him?"

"Because," said Thor, frustrated, "he will be killed if he steps foot on this planet again." Sam quickly grasped the meaning of his sentence and frowned as well. But he looked at Steve, who was struggling to breath, and he took a deep breath.

"Get him."

Thor looked at him, amazed. "I-"

"Get him. If he helps Steve, then I'll offer him protection for as long as he's here."

Thor stared at the ground for a long while, and then stepped and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You are a good friend. Stay with him, I should be back soon."

Sam gave him a weak smile. "Whatever, don't dawdle." He pulled up a chair, and sat by Steve, gently stoking on of his hands.

Thor strode out of the room, and kept on striding until he reached the hospital parking lot. He looked left and right, and then raised his hand to the sky, crying "Heimdall, open the Bifrost!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"You should not be here." Heimdall said, staring at Thor as he dusted himself off. Thor looked odd, dressed in civilian clothes with a tiny Mjolnir attached to his wrist, whilst Heimdall was clothed in finery.

"I would have an audience with the King." He said. He rolled his shoulders and unwound his unconventional bracelet, whispering a code word and letting the familiar weight fill his hand. He remembered when Stephen Strange had enchanted it for him, so he could go around New York unnoticed and always have his weapon with him. Heimdall raised a brow.

"Does the King know you are here to see him?"

"No."

"Then do you not remember your last conversation with him?"

Thor frowned at Heimdall. "All-Seeing Heimdall, are you really so blind as to not know why I am here?" He asked, starting to swing his hammer lazily, slowly picking up momentum.

"I do not."

Thor grinned. "Them maybe it is time you took a break. Your eyes must be weary if you cannot see the obvious!" And with that, he swung his hammer and powered through the air towards Asgard, and the palace in which he grew up.

Arriving at the palace gates, he attached Mjolnir to his belt (he heard the leather groan in protest) and strode to the Throne Room. The guards on duty were shocked into duty, seeing their prince stride through in Midgardian clothing, and he entered the throne room with virtually no contest, so stunned were the guards. Inside, he could see that Odin was not sitting on the Throne, but behind the desk in the corner, reading a piece of parchment with a frown on his face. Thor cleared his throat loudly and smiled as he watch Odin jump.

"Thor!" He exclaimed loudly, setting down his parchment and grabbing his staff. "What are you doing here?"

"I request an audience with you, on behalf of a friend."

Odin glowered at him, his single green eye burning. Thor bore it with an easy smile, occasionally shifting his weight onto different feet so Mjolnir whispered against his jeans.

"So speak your case." Odin waved a hand.

"I would rather talk to you in private."

"I would not."

"Nevertheless," Thor said, still with an easy smile, "I will not speak with others present." Odin seemed to be biting his tongue, and his eye flickered as he visibly thought about what to do. 

Finally, he jerked his head. "Follow me." He turned and strode out of the room, Thor following closely behind. They kept walking until they reached a chamber Thor vaguely recollected as being one where counsels were held. He knew for a fact, however, that the room was sound-proof. "Guard the door. Let no one come in." Odin said to the sentries, who stood even straighter.

When they were in, and the door was closed firmly behind them, Odin turned to Thor.

"Now, what was it you-" *SMASH*. Thor's fist cracked against Odin's jaw and he staggered back, one hand coming to the rapidly swelling skin. Thor shook out his hand and assessed his damaged knuckles.

"What," Odin gasped, "what did you-"

"Oh, drop it Loki, I know it's you!"

There was a ringing silence, while Odin continued to stare at Thor, and Thor looked at Odin. He thought that he was going to have to argue with Loki to convince him to give up the ruse, but to his surprise, there was a shimmer, and the image of Odin melted away to reveal Loki. 

"You look awful." Thor said. It was true. Loki was thinner, his shining green eyes standing out bigger than ever against hollow cheeks. His cheekbones jutted through, and his lips were dry and chapped. His hair was longer than every, reaching his shoulder blades and lying in messy tangles. It was obvious that taking the throne had done nothing to Loki but make him worse. He was wearing a thin green shirt, not unlike the one he wore in the dungeons, and his trousers, which should have hugged his legs, were baggy. His feat were bare, and when he moved Thor could see a faint limp, like his feet had still not healed after injuring them. Thor could see his chest bones through the thin skin. Like Steve, he had a rattle to his breathing.

Loki licked dry lips and said "What gave me away?"

"Eyes."

"Ah." Loki continued to hold his jaw, which was still swelling. His tongue was a rapid thin, flickering in and out to wet his lips. "And you just left me on the throne."

"I was under the erroneous impression that you actually having the throne would be good for you. Clearly, I was mistaken." Thor ran his eyes up and down Loki, taking in the damage.

"I have been coping." Thor snorted with laughter, causing Loki to puff up in anger. He opened his mouth to defend himself.

"Do not lie, not to me. I do actually have eyes in my head." Thor said, reaching out and gently moving a tangle out of Loki's face. Loki narrowed his eyes, but did not move. His breath was stale, now Thor was closer. But, it seemed that the only saving grace to Loki was that he had been bathing. His skin had the recent look of being scrubbed pink. "You still try to hurt yourself when bathing, I see."

Loki wrenched himself away and limped to the other side of the table, putting some distance between himself and Thor. Thor let him, seeing that he needed to placate Loki if he was to secure his help.

"Have you come to insult me?" Loki hissed, leaning against the table. Thor shook his head.

"I have come to ask for help."

"So you have said." Loki started sneering. "One of your Avengers. Well, I think you know my answer."

"I would have you listen to me speak my case first."

"Don't waste your breath." Loki waved an idle hand, and Thor was suddenly stung with homesickness, when Loki would do such things to playfully taunt him, and his mother was still alive. "I will do nothing for the people who beat me."

"You deserved it."

"I did not!" Loki was suddenly very close, hissing into Thor's face. His fists were clenched, and he was leaning into Thor, trying desperately to seem bigger than he was. "I did not deserve to be beaten into the ground like a dog!"

"You were trying to take over Midgard!" Thor cried back, leaning back into Loki instead of moving away. He could not fight Loki anymore, not now, now when he had seen Loki die twice.

"I was-" Loki pursed his lips and didn't speak another word. His nostrils were flaring in anger.

"Was what? Loki, tell me." Thor grasped Loki by the shoulders and shook him slightly in desperation. He was frightened by how Loki's shoulders under his fingers felt as delicate as a birds.

"I shall tell you nothing, for you will only think it a falsehood." Loki stood in Thor's shadow, allowing himself to be manhandled. He seemed to be so tired. Thor stopped shaking him and instead held his shoulders, keeping him still.

"Whatever you tell me, I shall listen to." Thor was so earnest, trying desperately to get through to his brother. Loki pursed his lips.

"Not now." 

Thor sighed, but nodded and helped guide Loki into a chair. Loki collapsed gratefully and leaned his head back against the rest, closing his eyes. Thor took a chair opposite and took one of Loki's spider like hands, gently playing with the fingers, as he used to do as a child. There was a peaceful silence, as Loki rested and Thor reconnected, gently pulling the fingers and massaging the dry skin. Loki's black nails were bitten almost to the quick, a habit that had remained long after childhood had faded. 

Thor screwed up his courage. "Loki."

"Hmmm?" 

"Where is Father?"

Loki slitted open his eyes, and gazed at Thor through lowered lids. "Do you fear him dead?"

Thor nodded.

"He is in Odin-Sleep. In his rooms." Thor sighed a deep sigh of relief, and continued to play with the hands in his possession.

"Keep doing that." Loki whispered, closing his eyes again. He sounded so tired, and looked so ill, that Thor was compelled to continue. There was another long silence.

"Which friend is it?"

Thor nearly jumped, so sudden was the question. Loki hadn't opened his eyes. His head was loose on his neck, his hair in his face, wafting gently with each breath. Thor licked his lips.

"Steve Rogers."

"Ah, the Soldier out of time."

"Yes." Thor paused, swallowed, and then continued. "He is dying." Loki opened his eyes in confusion.

"How can that man be dying? He has the Tesseract running through his veins."

"Nevertheless, he is fading from this world. A wound he sustained had turned rotten in his gut, and it has spread to his brain."

Loki smiled softly. "I see that your magics are still being put to good use." He bit his lip and thought. "If a wound has spread to his brain, then why do you need me?"

Thor sighed. "The wound itself has healed, but the nature of it still lingers. And it is killing him."

"Then the wound is mental rather than physical." Loki didn't move, but he frowned as he thought. "Eir cannot help, she deals with the physical. Mental problems tend not to have much sway in Asgard."

"More's the pity." 

Loki gave Thor a sharp look, but didn't comment. He continued to think.

"The rot will have a source. It will be something that is personal to the Captain, something that he either doesn't have or something that he needs but cannot obtain. If he is to heal, the source will need to be confronted. Something in his memories or thoughts should tell us that is causing the spread."

Thor felt his heart lighten. Tentatively, he asked "Will you come?"

Loki ground his teeth and looked away. "I cannot know if I will even get to see your Captain."

"You have been offered protection by a friend of Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson."

Loki laughed, low and mocking. "Protection by a mortal, how safe I shall be!"

Thor frowned. "Do not laugh like that, Loki. It doesn't suit you." Loki's jaw clicked shut, and he stared at Thor with surprise in his eyes. Thor stared back, unafraid.

"And what shall happen after? If I heal the Captain, what shall happen to me?"

Thor shrugged, although it physically pained him to say the words. "You may do as you wish. You can come back here and rule as Odin still." 'And I shall have to bury you for real not six months later.' He thought privately, feeling his chest squeeze at the thought. There was a long silence, whilst Loki appeared to think.

"And what if I don't?" His voice was tiny, soft, as if it would blow away in the wind. Thor's heart constricted.

"Then you shall do whatever you want."

"I think," Loki said, still softly, "I think I shall sleep for a while." Thor desperately tried not to cry.

"Come then," he said, standing up and gathering Loki with him, one hand across his shoulders and the other still holding a hand, "let us awaken Father and set off to Midgard."

 

 

***************

 

 

Odin was not pleased upon being woken up.

"You little Jotunn bastard!" He cried at Loki, who did not waver, but continued to look at Odin with a faintly disgusted look on his face. 

"You can scream and cry all you want, Asgard is in a much better place with me in charge." Odin was nearly puffing steam, he was so furious. For the first time in his life, Thor felt disgust at being related to Odin. 

"The realm is yours, Father." Thor bowed, a mocking smile on his face. He did not wish to return, so he had emptied both his and Loki's rooms, stuffing everything into a bag that now hung around his shoulders. Loki had grabbed everything he wanted, every book he had and a few from the library that he had had his eye one. His clothes, his papers, his toiletries. Every worldly possession was now in that bag. Thor had pretended not to notice when he slipped Frigga's hairbrush in as well. Loki himself was wearing his light leather coat, and a pair of his favourite butter soft boots. He still looked haggard, but it seemed that the thought of leaving Asgard was doing him some good.

Thor walked out of the door, Loki trotting after him, his arms wrapped around his chest. Upon reaching the entrance to the Palace, Thor shifted the bag and grasped Loki by the waist, swinging his hammer and flying to the Bifrost.

"Where to?" Heimdall asked, glaring at Loki who didn't notice, snuggled as he was in Thor's embrace.

"The hospital, if you please Heimdall."

"I hate this." Loki muttered before they were whisked away back to Midgard.

It would be a long time before either of them returned to Asgard.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It wasn't often that Sam Wilson was surprised, but he could honestly say that having a genuine god bending over his best friend was one of those time. Loki himself seemed harmless, muttering to himself as he waved hands over Steve's prone form. Occasionally green symbols would rise from Steve's skin and Loki would stare at them, frowning and still talking.

"He doesn't look like he did two years ago." He muttered to Thor. Thor himself was sitting slumped against the wall, looking tired. He had entered the room carrying a huge bag across his back, and it was now between his legs, open. Loki would occasionally throw a book to Thor, or request one from him, and Thor would go delving back into the bag until he had the book Loki wanted, which he would then pass to Sam who would then pass it to Loki. Loki would mutter a thank you before going back to cast spells over Steve.

"He's been in a difficult situation." Thor said.

"He looks like shit."

"That he does."

Sam snorted suddenly with laughter, causing Loki to look up and frown at him. Sam said sorry and Loki nodded, slowing down his spell work and now looking hard at Steve's face.

Thor smiled softly at his brother, who did not notice. Sam did however, and through his own interpersonal skills, wondered just what the relationship between the two men was. Because that smile was sure as shit not a brotherly smile.

"Will you give me permission?" Sam jumped at the voice and looked at Loki, who was staring at him hard. 

"What?"

"I need to look into his mind. You are the closest to him, will you give me permission?"

"Why do you need to look into his mind?" Sam asked, trying to ignore the tendril of dread that spread through his chest.

"His illness is centred in the mind. He is actively willing himself not to get better." Loki gestured to a symbol that hung over Steve's chest. "The wound has healed but the memory of the wound has taken ahold. This only happens when the cause of the wound is personal to the victim."

"He was shot, by his friend."

Loki raised his eyebrows in surprise. "His friend shot him in the stomach." Even Thor looked interested now, looking up at Sam in surprise. Sam raised his eyes to the ceiling and asked for Steve's forgiveness.

"His best friend. Steve thought he was dead, but he was alive, being kept by the Russians. He forgot everything, even his own name. He was no longer the man Steve knew, and he was the one that shot Steve."

Thor let out a faint "Oh" of understanding, but Sam was looking at Loki. Or, more specifically, Loki's reactions. As Sam had continued to speak, his features had become pinched and painful, and his eyes kept darting to Thor. Thor didn't notice, he kept looking at Sam. 'What's the story there?' Sam wondered. It was not the time to ask, but as soon as he could, he was pinning Thor down and talking to him.

"Then you must understand," Loki said, his voice faintly pleading, "I must know what this friend was like, through his own eyes, to better heal the wound." 

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his head. Finally, he nodded.

"Thank you." And without further ado, Loki hopped up onto the bed, straggled Steve, clasped his face between pale hands and mashed their foreheads together.

"What-" Sam said faintly. He heard Thor chuckle from the floor and sank down to sit with him.

"Loki has a flair for the dramatic."

"You don't say." Sam said faintly.

"Do not worry, my friend." Thor said, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. "He shall be alright."

Sam turned to Thor. "Friend?" he asked, one side of his mouth curling.

Thor nodded, also faintly smiling. "A friend of Steve's is a friend of mine." He kept his hand on Sam's shoulder, and together, they watch the figures on the bed.

 

 

***************

 

 

_Painpainpainpainpainpain **Bucky** painpainpainpainpainpainpain **Buckyshotme** painpainpain **Endoftheline**_ _painpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpain_ **_You'reMyMission_ ** _painpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpain **Buckyfalling** painpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpain **Should'ajumpedto** painpainpain **Lefthimtodie** painpainpainpainpainpain **BuckyisWinterSoldier** painpainpainpainpainpainpainpain_

_Who is Bucky?_

_BuckyisgoodBuckyiskindBuckyismybestfriendBuckyisWinterSoldierBuckyisfallingNotWithoutYouPunkJerkTillTheEndOfTheLineBucky **SHOT** meMetalarmRedstarBuckyhaslonghairlooksgoodBuckydoesn'tknowmeWhoTheHellIsBuckyBuckyinabluecoatCycloneBuckyrubbingmybackHadhimontheropesBuckyinthe107thBuckymaybeDEADBuckynotallowedtodieBuckyisfallingBuckyismyfriend **  
**_

_Who is Bucky?_

_BuckyismybestfriendHowlingCommandosBuckyisWinterSoldierAssasain_

_Who is Bucky?_

_BuckyisajerkBuckyisafighterBuckyisaHowlingCommandoBuckyletsmemoveinBuckywantstobethereforme_

_Who is Bucky_

_...........................................................................................................................................................BuckyisBucky.................................................................................................................................................................................._

_Who is Bucky to you?_

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**************

 

 

Loki sat up slowly and rolled his neck from side to side, feeling it pop as air was displaced. He gently put a hand on Steve's chest and pushed himself off the bed, moving his arms and allowing movement to come back to the joints. He noticed ideally that the sun had set, and that Thor and Sam had gone to sleep on the floor, their heads leaning together and both breathing deeply. He went over and flicked Thor on the ear.

"Wha?" he mumbled, waking up.

"I need to stay with him tonight." Loki whispered. Sam snorted himself awake and rubbed his eyes, chasing sleep away.

"What was that?"

"Your friends life is in a critical state." He gestured to Steve, who was now not even sweating. His skin was dry as a bone, and slowly getting colder. His rattle was now growing. Sam visibly went pale as he stared at Steve.

"He's actually dying, isn't he?" Sam asked. Loki nodded.

"He may not make it through the night without my help. I can keep his body healthy, but his soul is leaving. I'm afraid that there is nothing on this earth to tether him to it."

"But-" Sam said. Loki put up a hand and shook his head.

"It's up to him now. But tonight is it. If he makes it through the night, he shall see many more dawns. But I need to be here to make sure that happens." Loki did not pull punches. He said what was going to happen, and watched as Sam and Thor digested this news. Thor rubbed a hand down his face, gazing sadly at the figure on the bed. 

"I shall prepare the others." He said and stood up with a groan. Sam stood up as well.

"I'm gonna sweet talk the nurses into letting you stay. They were S.H.I.E.L.D, they ought to know a few magicians so you shouldn't be a problem."

"It might be if you mention me by name." Loki said dryly. Sam's mouth twitched.

"C'mon man, I'm not that dumb."

"That remains to be seen." But Loki smiled at Sam in gratitude and let him leave.

Loki was about to settle himself into the corner with a book when he was grasped about the neck and his forehead met Thor's lips.

"Thor?" he whispered, staring with wide eyes at Thor's throat.

"You are so brave."

Loki swallowed. "I'm not brave."

"You are, Loki." Thor leaned back and looked at Loki, staring deep into his eyes. "You would willingly confront Death to save a man you don't even like."

Loki's smile was a tremulous, small thing. "My daughter is well acquainted with Death, as I am as well. It should be no problem to talk her out of taking the Captain."

"I would see you not confront Death ever again, but I must ask this thing of you." His hand cupped Loki's hollow, bruised cheek gently. "You are brave, to put aside your hate and loathing, your fear, to fight for a man you do not like. You put aside your own weakness and continue to battle on. That, is true bravery."

A single tear slipped down Loki's cheek, as his eyes fluttered shut. Thor leaned in and kissed the tear away, relishing the taste of salt.

"When you have finished, and whatever the outcome, you shall come with me to my rooms, and sleep as many days as you want."

Loki sighed, and nodded. There was a throat clearing from the door, and Thor turned to follow Sam. Sam gave Loki a nod and closed the door after himself, and Loki dimmed the lights, except in his little corner. He picked up his book, tucked his legs under himself, and settled in for a long night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was fightingly easy to jimmy open the window and slide in to the room, but then, the Asset had long had practice. He couldn't remember where he had obtained this skill, or how long it had taken him to perfect it, but it was there. Like all his other skills, all at the tips of his finger, both human and metal, from folding garrottes to pulling a trigger. The Asset shook his head when he remembered that. He did not like to think about Missions. They were always there, now he had been out of cryo sleep for so long. So many murders, so many assassinations, all flitting like an album through his head. Men, women, even children ("The Asset must not leave any evidence behind. Even children are a liability"). Little children with fat legs and big eyes, trusting his hands until the moment he snapped their necks ("Mommy?"*CRACK*). The Asset swallowed a whimper and gently closed the window again, his movements silent. He gently placed the shield by the Missions bed. It had taken him days to find it, nearly bursting his lungs as he swept the river floor for any sign of red, blue or silver. He had nearly passed out, but had, at last, grasped the shield and taken it to the surface. He had then swam to shore and had sat, soaking in the mud, using an old t-shirt he had stolen to clean the shield until it was shining again ("You fancy a bigger target on your back, huh?" "You're just jealous." "Punk." "Jerk.")

"I've been waiting for you?" said a soft voice from the corner. The Asset didn't even hesitate, but grabbed his nearest knife and threw it at the voice. There was a beat of silence.

"Very good. I've heard about your skill, but now I see that the images under-exasagirated your abilities."

"Who are you?" The Asset growled, stepping back towards the window.

The man stepped from the shadows. He was a tall man, but the Asset could see signs of illness in him. He had pale, dry skin with huge green eyes and straggly, jet black hair. He was dressed loosely, in a green shirt and leather trousers, with feet in soft green slippers. He was twirling the knife through the fingers of his right hand, looking at it with a faint smile on thin lips.

"A quite impressive weapon, but not for me, I think." The man flicked his fingers and the Asset raised an arm to defend himself, but he saw a flash of green and felt the weight of the knife return to his pocket.

"Who are you?" The Asset repeated, now confused.

The man gave a wider smile. "I am Loki." He spread his arms and bowed at the waist. The Asset thought he was mocking him.

"And you are you?" Loki asked. The Asset didn't reply. He didn't know. Loki clicked his tongue.

"How are we to become friends if I don't know your name?"

"I don"t have friends." The Asset said. He didn't have friends. He had Missions, and debriefing, and pain in his head, and Cold.

"Then I shall become your friend, in the absence of others." 

The Asset didn't know what to say to this, and so turned back to the Mission lying in the bed. The Mission also did not look well. He was pale, with blue lips. His breath rattled in his chest. 'Where's his inhaler?' the Asset thought, and then wondered why he thought it. He did speak his thought out loud.

"I don't believe Rogers uses one anymore." Loki stepped forward and reached to put a hand on the Missions chest. The Asset moved, and Loki was pinned back against the wall with a knife to his throat.

"Do not touch him." The Asset growled. Instead of looking scared however, Loki looked solemn.

"He's dying."

There was a ringing sound in the air, coming from very far away. The Asset suddenly could not get enough air, and his nerveless fingers dropped the knife. Before it hit the floor, it disappeared in a swirl of green, and the Asset knew it had been given back to him. The Asset turned desperate eyes to the bed, where the Mission was. 'No no no, he isn't allowed to die, not allowed, not when he gave me a  _name_.'

"How-" he tried asking, before his throat closed up, and he swallowed back a sob.

"The gunshot to his stomach." Loki moved over to the bed and swept his hand through the air, bringing up a green symbol. It meant nothing to the Asset, but to Loki, it held information. The Asset felt sick.

"He has healing. He should be well." He said, desperate.

"He is dying from heartache." Loki turned back to the Asset, his arms folded across his thin chest. His gave neither condemned, nor was sympathetic. It merely gave information. "The memory of the wound has taken hold of Roger's and the infection is poisoning his soul. He could get better if he willed it, but he is actively trying to die. He feels like there is nothing holding him to this world."

The Asset's legs nearly gave way. He stumbled and reached out. Loki quickly took hold and guided him to a chair, settling him down. The Asset did not remove his gaze from the bed, but if he did, he would have noticed that there was a tea-pot and mugs set out, along with sandwiches and fruit. 

"How long?" The Asset asked, tearing his gaze from the bed and gazing at Loki with sad eyes. Loki blinked and sat down opposite him.

"Not long now, certainly he won't make it until the morning. You can hear him breathe, there's not much left."

The Asset tried not to whimper. There was a strange emotion in his chest, something was squeezing his heart and clogging his throat. ' _Grief'_  a small part of him mind whispered to him. The Asset focused his attention of the breath moving in and out of his own chest. The Asset didn't notice Loki busily pouring tea until a large mug was pushed into his hands. He refocused on Loki, who was stirring a frightening amount of sugar into his own tea.

"Help yourself to sandwiches." Loki offered. The Asset didn't feel like eating.

There was a silence, broken only by the rough rattle coming from the bed. Every time the Asset heard it, he felt a vice close in his chest.

"Do you recognise my face?" Loki asked suddenly. The Asset looked at him sharply. There was something about that narrow face that triggered a memory. It wasn't something he had been a part of, no, the Asset had been in cryo sleep. The Asset knew that he had seen Loki's face recently, in something he himself had researched when trying to study the Mission. Something to do with New York...

"You invaded."

Loki nodded, but didn't say anything, allowing the Asset to muddle through the recent memories.

"A hole in the sky."

Loki hummed.

"Aliens. Ugly ones."

Loki gave a soft snort. "We can't all be picturesque."

"You had blue eyes."

Loki froze. He appeared to be moving in slow motion. He was staring into his tea, before looking out of the window. He then, so slowly, looked at the Asset out of the corner of his eyes. "You noticed."

"You have green eyes now." Loki nodded.

"My natural colour." The Asset frowned. He had seen blue eyes in New York before.

"The archer, Barton, had blue eyes as well. On the Helicarrier, before the Widow knocked him out." Loki nodded again. The Asset frowned deeper, putting everything together.

"You were also under control, weren't you?"

There was a pregnant pause, before Loki sighed deeply and put his mug down.

"The worst thing about it is that no one would believe me even if I told them. I struggled for so long to break free, I did break free at one point, and stabbed my brother, hoping he would beat the control out of me. But no, and my salvation came when the battle was won, and my eyes were green again, and they still didn't believe me." Loki snorted slightly. "I doesn't help that I am know as the God of Lies, and I am actually a pathological liar."

"I saw the footage, from the base in the desert when you first came through." This was the most the Asset had ever talked, and his throat felt dry. He took a big swallow of tea, and felt all the better for it. "You looked terrible."

"The Chitauri had to do quite a lot of persuading before I would even tell them my name. It took even more for them to get into my head."

The Asset stared into his mug. When he spoke, his voice was small. "I think...I had to be persuaded as well." He looked up at Loki, who looked back at him, his face impassive but his eyes soft.

"When they found me, floating in space, I had just been dealt the worst weeks in the history of my existence." Loki closed his eyes, and the Asset watched in amazement as his skin turned blue, lines appeared and small, budding horns appeared in his hairline. When Loki opened his eyes, they were blood red. "I had spent my entire life, believing that I was like Thor, that I was Thor's brother. When I learnt I was this," he gestured to himself, "I think it nearly broke my heart."

"Why?" The Asset asked.

"Because I no longer had any connection to Thor. I was unmade, everything I had believed in my life was a falsehood." Loki swallowed. "Even though, as an Asgardian I was  _different_ , I was still an Asgardian, and that almost made the taunting in my life bearable."

"Why were you so different?"

Loki gave a small smile. "I have borne four children from my womb. I am both man and woman." The Asset gaped.

"How?" 

"As it turns out, Jotunn, the original race I am from, can do this too. But I didn't know that, so for years, I felt I was a freak."

"Steve was like that too." The Asset mumbled, and then shook his head, wondering why he had said that. 

"Tell me."

"Skinny little kid, always getting into fights. Getting his ass kicked, never staying down. Should'a known better." The Asset said, not looking at Loki, but looking at the bed, at the man who was not a Mission, not someone to eliminate, but  _Steve_. His heart swelled and he chocked back tears.

"He was  _different_ , because his heart was bigger than his body, because he was always so brave. Braver than the whole neighbourhood." The Asset swallowed. "Braver than me."

Loki didn't say anything, but poured the Asset more tea and shoved a sandwich into his hand. The Asset bit into it. Ham and Cheese. Without warning, the tears in his eyes flooded over, and he sobbed as he ate, relishing each bite. Loki nodded in understanding and changed back to his normal form. He needed that stability, now he was discussing this he would rather not.

"It's the little things that remind you who you are, when everything else is lost." He said, staring at Rogers and allowing the Asset to have his moment. When the Asset had finished and wiped his eyes on his sleeve, Loki refocused on his face. 

"What was it for you? What persuaded you?" The Asset asked. Loki pursed his lips, trying to remember. He shuddered when he did.

"I was taken to the lowest of the low, stripped of my clothing and then forced to become his whore. The whore to a lot of them, to the whole army. I suffered through months of agonies, I was whipped and taken down to my base self." Loki shuddered and settled a hand over his lower stomach, where his most precious organ lay. "I must have borne, maybe a dozen children, before they were ripped from me in a shower of blood and agony. They ate them in front of me." A tear slipped down Loki's face as he smiled sadly. "Even so, what broke me was the illusions. They killed Thor in front of me. Numerous times. And each time, my spirit became weaker, because each time, I thought Thor had come for me, and each time, he died for me. By then end, I almost welcomed their infestation into my mind."

The Asset nodded, digesting the information. He couldn't imagine having children, so he couldn't imagine the pain of seeing them taken from hime when it was to early. But he did know that pain Loki had felt.

"They told me Steve was dead." He said, as the memory slowly filtered into his head. "I held out for months. Through the pain of the arm, through the memory wipes, I held through. But they showed me a New York paper, and it said that Steve was dead, and they played a recording, and he died in it and it just...just..." he gasped wetly. Loki silently offered a tissue. 

"He was dead, and we promised each other. 'Till the end of the line'. That was what we promised. And he was dead, and so I wanted to die to. And I tried to, I really did!" He looked at Loki, pleading with him to understand. "Every time they played with my arm, every time they cut me open, every time they stuck a needle in me, I tried to die. But they didn't let me." He sobbed. "I wanted to be with Steve and they didn't let me." He sobbed, and it was deep sobbing this time. The sounds that came from his chest weren't human, but an animalian outpouring of pure grief. Because he missed his friend, and he had wanted to join him, and he wasn't allowed to.

Loki didn't move. He didn't make a sound, but as the man opposite buried his head in his hands, clutching his overlong hair, Loki allowed tears to stream down his face, as he too grieved.

When the man opposite got himself back under control, Loki handed him a reheated cup of tea and settled back. His green eyes were red and shiny.

"I think you had it worse than me." Loki said, taking a bite out of his own sandwich (tuna. Loki loved fish). "They made you forget your man, and with that, you lost every trace of humanity you had. I could at least remember everything, but it was tinged with what I saw. When I saw Thor again, I thought it was another hallucination. It was only when I was hurt that I figured out he was alive. Unfortunately, I was under Chitauri control, and so getting through to him was virtually impossible."

The man nodded in slow understanding. "I didn't even know Steve. I was going to kill him when he called me a name."

"Bucky."

The man nodded. "And they tried to wipe it, the memory. And it worked, but the feeling was still there. I still knew him, even when I was shooting him on the Helicarrier. I was missing. I never miss."

Loki frowned. "You still hit him."

The man shook his head. "Kill shot." And tapped his temple. Loki nodded.

"And when I was beating him, he wouldn't fight." The man frowned. "He wouldn't fight, and he said he was with me till the end of the line, and I couldn't do it. I felt as though I would die if I killed him."

Loki gave a grim smile. "It seems that that is our shared curse. We cannot seem to exist without our other halves. I cannot live without Thor, and you cannot exist without Steve, and vice versa."

The man said "Thor still carried on without you, when he thought you died."

Loki chuckled slightly. "Did your research didn't you?" The man felt heat in his cheeks. "Yes Thor carried on, he defeated the Dark Elves, but he nearly killed himself to do so. And he is no longer with the women he loves. And Rogers," he gestured to the bed, "crashed a plane in the Arctic three days after your death. Does that sound like something a man with everything to live for would do?"

The man shook his head. Loki sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His fingers caught a snarl and he winced as he tugged it out.

The man licked his lips. "I think his love for Peggy Carter was tinged more with respect than actual love." It was a hesitant phrase, and he was not sure that offering an opinion was still allowed. Loki got a thoughtful look on his face and pondered the statement.

"I think you may be right. Barton told me everything about Rogers, and Carter was included, but the way it sounded, women wouldn't even look a him before the serum, and they were all over him afterwards. Carter seemed to respect him before and after."

"They were idiots." The man said. "He was always worth twice what they were."

"Thor's infatuation with Foster seems to have been along the same bent." Loki said, head tilted to the side, deep in his own thoughts. "Women in Asgard generally do not hold their own jobs, with a few exceptions. Foster was the first women Thor had met that didn't have to fight for her job, that she had earned it, and that she was as well educated as a princess would be on Asgard."

The man nodded, and silence descended again. The man frowned. "You said that Steve putting the plane down into the water was a direct following of me dying?" Loki nodded.

"Why would Steve do that?"

"I believe," said Loki slowly, knowing now what this conversation had been leading up to, "that he did that because the thought of living in a world without Bucky Barnes was something he did not want to face."

The man opposite mouthed the name, and slowly digested the information. If he indeed was Bucky Barnes, if he was the man from the Smithsonian, if he was the man who Steve Rogers called friend, then hearing this was something that he should have already known. The memories were coming through, only a trickle, but he now knew enough to build a solid mental picture of the man he might have been.

He looked at his hands. One metal, the other flesh. "I have killed so many people with these hands." He whispered. Another hand covered his metal one. One with long slim fingers and black nails. He looked up. Loki was looking at him, his whole face tense. His green eyes were boring into blue, willing that man to come to the surface.

"I've killed thousands. I have a whole city's worth of blood on them, and yet there is a man out there who sees men for the person I am. He see's who he grew up with, who I tried to become, who I really am. He would never think me evil, beyond salvageable. He is too good for that." Loki smiled a small, sad smile. "Sometimes I feel selfish, for coveting him for myself when his goodness should be shared around. But I am a selfish creature, and do not share well."

The man swallowed, and briefly laced his fingers with Loki's. He sighed, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and Bucky Barnes opened his eyes to look at the man who had seemed to have saved his soul.

"What is Steve Rogers to you?" Loki whispered.

Bucky wet his lips, and whispered back, "He's my  _everything_."

"Then go, there's not much time." Loki unlaced his hand and gestured to the bed. "Give him a reason to stay on Midgard. Give him a reason to stay alive."

Bucky nodded, and stood up. He walked cautiously over to the bed, where Steve lay, now barely breathing. Sitting on the side, he quickly decided that he wasn't close enough, and so squeezed himself alongside Steve. It was a tight fit, but it put his lips next to Steve's ear, and he whispered his reason so that Steve could stay.

 

 

****************

 

 

_Steve, Steve, it's me. It's Bucky._

_I'm sorry I shot you. It was a crappy thing to do, but in my_ _defence, I didn't know you at the time._

_..._

_Do you remember Coney Island, and the Cyclone? I made you ride it and you told me you'd throw up? I didn't believe you, 'cause I thought that nobody would throw up on that ride, but you did. All over my shoes, and into that pompous ass's hair in front of us. He was so mad, he was almost about to deck you, so I stepped up and said I did it, and he punched me instead. You went nuts, and we both got dragged out by our ears._

_I never realised it at the time, but everything you did that day was a reflection of you. You were always ill, but you always did what I wanted, because you were so kind. And you always let me speak, even when what I was saying was shit, because you always listened to what I said, because you valued my opinion. And you always fought, because you were the little guy, and for so long no one would stand up for you, so you stood up for yourself and others. And us getting both dragged out, well, that's because it was always the two of us. Steve-and-Bucky, forever._

_I've done so many bad things, Steve. I've killed kids. I don't think I wanted to, but I did. But the entire time, I think I thought I was dead, and that I was in Hell, because Bucky wasn't Steve. Bucky wasn't a good person, because he wanted things men shouldn't want, from his best friend._

_I rather have been your friend wanting, than be a stranger having._

_I wanted to die, Steve, when I heard you were dead. I tried to die, but I lived instead._

_I missed you, so damn much. For so long, all I wanted was to be with you, until they burned that out of my head, and all that was left was the feeling. I didn't even know the words to describe the feeling, but it ached, and I knew something wasn't right, because I was incomplete._

_You have to live, Steve, you have to. You have to remember how to breath, in-and-out, like that Christmas in '31 when you got so fluey I thought you were actually going to die. You have to live, because, because..._

_Because I've lived in a world without Steve Rogers, and I thought I was dead because of it._

_I love you, you dumb punk._

_I love you._

_I've loved you since I first saw you, being beaten in the playground. I loved you though the seasons, through the years. I loved you through every cold, every cough, every time your heart nearly gave out. I loved you every time you enlisted, even though I wanted to beat you over the head to try and make you see sense. I loved you when your body was finally big enough to match your heart, and you came and saved me. I loved you through every mission, every trek. I loved you when I fell from that train._

_I love you now._

_So you gotta stay with me. You gotta wake up and tell me not to be so stupid. You need to come and save my sorry ass every time I get into trouble. You have to wake up 'cause it's till the end of the line, and we're still alive, and I can't live without you anymore._

_I love you. I love you so damn much my heart aches._

_Come back to me, Steve. You have to come back_

_I love you._

 

 

**********

 

 

It was morning, and the nurses were bustling around their stations, giving pills when needed and generally checking on the health of their charges. Yet no body disturbed the room where Captain America lay.

In a far corner, Loki lay curled up in a small ball, pillowing his head in his arms. He was breathing deeply, dreaming for the first time without nightmares. He had retreated when Bucky had curled up alongside Steve, and had slept a full night, for the first time in so long. He knew the value of privacy, and so kept his back turned to the pair.

Bucky awoke slowly, to the feeling of fingers in his hair. They moved gently, teasing out each individual strand, scratching his scalp. His chest flipped, and he slowly turned his head, up and up, to meet a pair of clouded blue eyes, that gazed on him with such love.

"You stupid jerk," whispered Steve, "I love you too." And he lowered his head, and kissed Bucky gently on the lips, with 70 years of repressed feelings behind it.

They were still snuggling when Thor entered the room slowly, looking side to side as he searched for Loki, behind him, Sam rubbed away a manly tear of joy when he saw the couple ion the bed, Steve smiling gently at Bucky, who was gazing dopily back. Thor smiled softly when he located Loki and crept over to his side, softly shaking him awake. 

"Hmmm?" Loki said, sitting up slowly.

"It worked." Whispered Thor, beaming with joy. Loki turned his head and met Steve's eyes. There was no accusation, no hatred, but merely tiredness, and gratitude. He inclined his head. Loki nodded back. 

"Come." Thor said, guiding Loki out of the room by the hand. When he got to the door, Loki turned when he heard his name being called.

"Is it worth the risk?" Bucky asked, smiling softly. Loki opened his mouth in surprise and then turned and pressed his own lips to Thor's. Thor did't do anything for a moment, and Loki felt his heart stop, before Thor pressed his lips back, his mouth curving in a smile. When they parted, Thor was looking at him with an expression of utter contentment, as iff every problem he every had had been solved by that simple kiss. Loki turned back to Bucky and answered,

"Absolutely."

Thor grasped his hand and led him out of the building, whilst Sam sat by the bed and talked about what Steve had missed. And if any doctors were amazed by how quickly Steve seemed to recover, well, Bucky would only smile a small smile, and hold Steve's hand all the more tighter.

 

 

 

 

 

**Epilogue**

 

 

Tony nearly had kittens when it was discovered that Loki was not only back in Earth, but had been living on Thor's floor,  _sharing his bed_ , for nearly a month.

"How the fuck did you keep him quiet?" he asked Thor, running a hand through his hair. He forgot his hands were covered in engine grease, and that they had now caused his hair to stick up in wild spikes. Thor ignored Tony, busy pouring milk into his cereal for both himself and his lover, who was lounging in beg, pressing a pillow to his eyes in an attempt to block out the sun.

"He has been quiet off his own back, and has not bothered anyone. I suggest you leave him be."

"Thor, my big blond buddy, I cannot help remember that it was Loki, the same one in your bed, that  _nearly took over the world_!" Tony was waving his hands everywhere.

"Indeed, and yet, as is the case with Bucky, it was also not him."

"Huh?" Tony was non plussed. Thor sighed.

"Eyes. Look at the eyes." And with that, he took his breakfast and entered his bedroom, where Tony could see Loki though the open door. He wasn't wearing pyjamas. Or a sheet.

Or anything.

But never let it be said that Tony Stark was a stupid man. So he sat in lab and thought, and he discussed it with Bruce, who was now living in the Tower as well, and he thought, and he had a very nerve wracking talk with Clint, and he thought. And he dragged up footage of both the desert base and the Battle of New York. And he observed Loki's green eyes, and the manic grin, and the sweating, and the stumbling.

And he then swore profusely, because Loki  _had fucking green eyes_.

It was a matter discussed with Fury, and Hill, and Coulson, and Loki stood in front of them, better for having Thor with him. He was finally healthy, and his hair was neatly pulled back in a ponytail.

He was talked about, and talked to, and questions were asked. And when Bucky stood next to Loki, and put his metal hand on his shoulder and said "I can vouch for and support this man." Loki ducked his head to hide the smile. And of course, Steve supported Bucky, saying his owed Loki his life. Barton was asked his opinion, and he said that he had indeed seen Loki sit alone, seeming in pain, with bright blue eyes. The Clint, having given his testimony, turned around and hit Loki as hard as he could in the stomach. As Loki doubled over, Clint said "I'm not gonna speak to you for a long, long time. But when I finally do, I'll have forgiven you." 

(Clint would spend the evening weeping into his wife's leg, whilst Natasha stroked his hair and stared out the window.)

Loki was exonerated, not lest by Coulson, who's testimony showed that Loki, in a rare moment when he was himself, had transported Coulson to the middle of Australia a micro second before running through a very good clone. Coulson had spent a happy month in the Outback before S.H.I.E.L.D had picked him up, getting a lovely tan and over his infatuation with Steve. 

Steve was very grateful for that. Bucky was nothing if not intensely jealous.

So Loki was slowly indoctrinated into the Avengers, and given a trail period. He fought the bad guys, and supported the good guys. He ate more shwarma than was perhaps healthy, and spent evenings with Thor, Steve and Bucky as they watched movies and talked about the modern age (Game of Thrones turned out to be the only things that divided that group. That and Star Wars [Darth Vader was a sticky issue for Loki]). 

Loki avoided Bruce like the plague, and was only comfortable being in the same room as him when they were at opposite ends. This was nothing personal, as Loki imagined that he would rather like the reclusive doctor, but his unfortunate ability to see auras always caused him to direct his gaze about 5 feet above Bruce's head, where the Hulk's gaze roughly was. And the Hulk was always grinning at him.

Bruce frequently complained to Tony that he longed to talk to Loki about his magic, but Loki was always too afraid. Tony would sigh and rub Bruce's fuzzy head like a puppy. 

Loki got over his fear during a conflict, when the only being in a certain zone of the city were himself, the Hulk, and several robots. Upon destroying the robots, the Hulk had ambled over to Loki, who was frozen in fear, stared at him and then patted him on the head (sending Loki to his knees with the force), saying "GOOD PUNY GOD."

And after that, well Loki was happy to talk to Bruce about his magic all he wanted. 

Clint did eventually talk to Loki, but would never be a close friend. They did get on, but others could sense the tension around the pair, and they were never left alone.

Natasha and Loki were a surprising pair, often seen sparring together, but that was because, like Bucky, she knew what it took to break a person. She hd decided that they were kindred spirits.

Tony and Loki got on like a house on fire. It was slightly disturbing to watch.

But Loki got on with Steve and Bucky the best. Occasionally Loki and Bucky could be found in a quiet space, heads bent together as they talked about unspeakable things. And Steve would always go out of his way to spend time with Loki, talking about books they both liked and running that same laps with Sam Wilson.

In the evenings, when the others had gone to bed, and Steve and Bucky had left, hand in hand or occasionally arm in arm, their enchanted wedding rings glowing slightly on their left ring fingers (a wedding gift from Loki, enchanted to stay on their fingers, even metal ones, no matter what the circumstance), Loki and Thor would curl up together on their huge bed and whisper their promises to each other. 

"I love you. You will always be mine. There is no one else. There is only ever you."

And if this led to something else, it isn't anyone else's business.

Of course, when Loki announced a month later he was expecting, there was a different set of challenges to face.

But that's a story for another time.


End file.
